Change
by Phanax Leminer
Summary: Engineer loses his right hand during a match. What's suppose to be an easy to fix problem, quickly snowballs into a disaster nobody could have seen coming. A disaster which isn't only harmful to his role in the team, but to his own sanity as well.
1. 1 - Old Memories

Chapter 1: Old Memories

''Darn thing...''

In a lone room, the RED'S (Reliable Excavation Demolition) Engineer was sitting on his work table. As a right-handed, it was difficult for him to repair the dominant prosthetic with its left counterpart.

The mechanical limb was getting old, some parts were rusting. It was a bad idea to not change them, but most were important to keep the metal hand running. If he removed them, it would take time to find a replacement and he needs the hand for the matches.

Although, it was a pain to keep it up. It's a memento of his genius. The first prototypes of his inventions were dangerous. He recalled try #4 and #6, wires were arranged in the wrong orders caused an explosion. He had to go to surgery to get the pieces out of his stomach and chest. He smirked, how dumb was he at such an innocent age. Sentry #12 was the worst, that model literally crushed his right hand like a can in a contractor. Bloody thing, just got up so fast his fingers got stuck when he looked away for a second.

And yes, it did hurt. More than he would admit it did. On a brighter side, he did had to learn bio-engineering to get that limb going and moving like a normal hand. A clumsy, can't-do-complex-holding, but still average hand. In less than 2 weeks! What genius he was and is.

Now, he just has to not break the sensible machine and he should be fine. The wiring is done. He sighed in relief and gave it a try. He fit the large yellow glove over and perform some tests to see if he still needs to do adjustments.

Grab that wrench, check. Grab that beer and take a good drink, refreshing. Take that pen.

…

Nope, the joints can't close further than that. At least he can grab the wrench and beer, those were the most important. He can work on the hand later tomorrow, after a match of capture the control point. If he can make a little safe haven for his designs, RED can win this easily. It has been a few matches were they lost this week, losing meant no payment and no payment made the team determinate to win. In hopes, it goes well this time.

He checked the time on one of those electrical alarm clock he made with scraps he gathered around the battlefields. It was close to midnight, he better get some shut eyes before Soldier decides to wake him up with gentleness of a crashing whale.

After a satisfying shower, he went straight to bed. As he made himself comfortable he couldn't help, but feel the prosthetic to be once again made out of bones and flesh. When he took a glance, it was still in full metal.

He only looked away, closed the light and started to count sheep's.


	2. 2 - Invisible Pain

Chapter 2: Invisible Pain

 _He's in a chair. In a small room, walls painted in an ugly shade of green._

 _''Mr. Conagher.'' A shadow with a white coat called him out. ''We need to talk.''_

 _He hates them. Know-it-all his ass, they told him he needs their pricey treatment if he wants a normal life. He did what they asked him and never again. Liars, all of them._

 _''Mr. Conagher, you have lost your hand.'' More lies, he bitterly thought. ''Can you tell me that?''_

 _He shocked his head, eyes flaring up in anger. He despises been taking for an idiot._

 _''Mr. Conagher, why are you in denial?'' He isn't. He lost his hand, so what? Can they see he built a new one? Are they so up their rear they can't see his genius?_

 _Mr. Conagher, you are in denial.'' He looked away from the shade in albino color coat. He isn't in denial._

 _''Mr. Conagher, you can't accept the truth. You have no more hand.'' Their voices were dripping with poison. He didn't lost anything, he has a better hand and he will take it no more._

 _He simply got up and walked away from the shadow._

 _''Mr. Conagher, it was a pleasure to talk. Please, come back whenever you wish.'' The shadow said its farewell to the patient. Weaklings, can't even fight for their payment._

''MAGGOT!''

Engineer bolted up from his mattress, heart pumping like a bomb just dropped next to him. He wasn't further from the truth, Soldier was standing right nest to his bed's edge. So yes, a bomb did explode in his room.

''What are you smiling at, GREASE MONKEY!'' Yelled again the veteran to his quiet comrade.

Soldier was the kind of man to pick on others who doesn't fight back. It wasn't in bad nature, Engineer could see through his harsh words and insults. He only wanted them to be stronger, to fight back as if he was a training bag against the real enemies out there; the BLUs (Builders League United).

''Howdy, pardner.'' He sheepishly grin all the while checking if the glove was hiding the prosthetic hand. He doesn't like to show it off to his teammates. ''How's the day look?''

''93.20F, winds up to 12 miles per hour, sun rise at 5:45 and will go down at 21:42 stats!''

In his ramblings, the texan had enough time to dress up for today's match. Soldier might be insane, but it didn't mean he was useless. If his teammates has a more open-mind, they could see his good intentions.

''Stay put private!'' Translation; 'wait a darn second'. ''Frisk said you need to get to the infirmary after we annihilate those blue hippies!''

The genius froze when Soldier told him the message. The Medic wanted to see him later? He was never called for a check-up in the past. Well, he did miss any schedule appointments by the RED's contract. That didn't fired him though, so what's going on?

''Got it, private?!'' Maybe it was the booming voice from Soldier and it made him flinch, but he sworn his prosthetic hand suddenly and painfully twitched.

''Loud an' clear.'' He answered, holding the glove in fear it fell apart.

''Good! Match starts in a hour, get moving!'' On those orders, Soldier leaved without a second to lose. Probably went to wake up Demoman and Scout.

With some luck, he could eat a breakfast at a pace his stomach wouldn't cry at the sudden movements. Never eat a heavy lunch when your fight is at morning. He had to learn this the hard way.

He got to the kitchen, or what most of the mercs calls it, dug in the fridge to find something to eat. Leftovers of yesterday diner made by Pyro, too many beers to count on top and ingredients to make an omelet with bacon.

How did the others didn't found the bacon? Sometimes, it's better to leave some mysteries unanswered.

In no time, he was sitting at the table eating his food, drinking a cup of black coffee. At least the others have standards when it comes to replenishing the pot. If nobody did, they would have been all murdered on their first day.

As he finished his plate, he couldn't help but to feel been watched. As a prime target to BLU's Spy, he knew the feeling all too well.

''You here Spook?'' As soon he called out, Spy appeared from a cloud of smoke. At his usual place, back against the wall.

''You just said zat to piss me off, non?'' He asked to the smirking man. ''Why do I even ask?''

''Ya know, if you stop spying on others like that, you might stop creeping everyone when they do see ya.'' Advised the Texan.

''I am only 'ere for the payment. Whatever the others believe from me isn't my concerns.'' The french man gave him one of those annoyed look at the smiling man.

''If that's true, why you always creeping around like a snake?'' He took a sip of his hot drink. ''Afraid of what people says in your back, boy?''

It shut him up. Seemingly frustrated by the accusations, Spy bottled up and vanished again. The constructor was impressed, the sly man stayed around five seconds more then his previous record.

He checked the clock on the wall, twenty minutes left before the match. He has to get on point.

* * *

The time of today's match drew near. RED's nine mercenaries were all, or almost, ready to fight for those control points.

He scanned around the respawn room and said a warm 'howdy!' to his colleges.

Pyro sat at a bench, flicking on and off a lighter he always had on them. Unlike what a lot of people would believe, Pyro wasn't always trying to burn someone to death and can be a friendly chap most of the time. With their flamethrower, the walking mystery was the main weakness of Spy. In exchange of a defense, Pyro would 'spy-check' the area for Engineer's safety and his constructions. Without warning, it did create a strange friendship between him and Pyro. The suited person lifted their head and waved at the Texan.

Soldier was at the center, shouting at Scout. Apparently, he had to drag him from his room to the starting line. Kid took a little too much of liquor last night. The Bostonian and himself didn't really didn't get along. His calm demeanor was pissing him off, too much of an aisle to piss him off. Easier targets were available to him such as Heavy, Demoman or, if he feels daring enough, Sniper.

Heavy and Medic observed the shouting of the middle of the room. Both men quickly became friend. The Russian always appreciated the company of the doctor. He never knew why, maybe because they complete one another during missions? He never asked and didn't want to question. He didn't like Medic. It's nothing personnel, no it's just experience told him to not be too friendly with doctors. He can take a beer with Heavy, but as soon Medic came along, he made a half-ass excuse and joined someone else.

Sniper was cleaning his sniper rifle's canon and said a weak; ''G'day''. Sniper was a man of a few words. The only moment where he would put more then ten words in a conversation was when he's perching somewhere or when he's drunk. Either of those things were difficult to achieve. Thankfully, his priorities overcame his indifference toward his teammates. He never let anyone getting killed if he could shoot the problem away. This attitude saved Engineer more then once from a appearing Spy or targeting opposite Sniper.

Demoman... drunk as usual. Still, the Scotsman is the one who respond with the most enthusiasm. In the matches, Demoman was always drunk, just like outside matches. It's as his body only run on whiskey and moonshine. Alcohol did work well for him, the happy-trigger was reckless and wouldn't wait an opportunity to make someone explode into confetti.

Finally, Spy was no where to be seen. Probably invisible and just waited to stab BLUs.

''The battle begins in thirty seconds.''

Look at the time, he needed to get ready. He dashed to the lockers, while everyone took position for the grand fight. He grabbed his trusty pump-action shotgun, the Frontier Justice, a pistol and his wrench. Not to forget the toolbox where his beauties waited to be build.

As soon the gate fold up, cries of battle and explosion rang out without a moment to spare. Engineer wasn't has fas as Scout, but can quickly get from point A to B with a teleporter. Where he lacked, he composed in forms of automatic robots. Need a fix? Got a dispenser right there. Guard a control point? Here's a 'nest' waiting for a dummy to pass by. He had an answer for anything.

Okay, not for everything.

He was protecting a control point with Soldier, but a surprise attack by BLU's Heavy, Medic and Soldier forced them to take cover. Heavy's mini-machine gun did a number on the sentry and dispenser, yet managed to stop most bullets until they took cover.

''Damn it communism! Why did they create man-bear?!'' Soldier yelled to the Heavy in blue uniforms, exchanging a few rockets to his face, but to no avail. ''Private, we must hold this point! Get working on that dispenser!''

The veteran tried to keep them off from the beaming red platform, but the azure Soldier was returning the fires. Through it all, he didn't hear his partner whacking his wrench on metal.

''Private, don't make me repeat myself!''

They were now only a few feet from the point and Soldier was starting to run low on ammunition. Worst was, the dispenser wasn't ready yet.

''DAMN IT PRIVATE, ARE YOU LISTENING!?'' Now, he was screaming orders at the top of his lungs. Yet, the man was still abnormally quiet.

Engineer stood on his two legs, he wasn't shacking and he seemed unarmed, unlike the veteran. He was looking at his gloved hand. The glove was rip apart by the flurry of bullets from Heavy. The yellow plastic was gone and so what was the prosthetic hand. It was now just a devastated piece of junk. Only the thumb was left, unable to move other then twitching and a large portion was ripped away unceremoniously.

It shouldn't hurt, it's not like when his body takes damage. It's a piece of metal. Wires and a bunch of steel put together to act like a hand, not feel like one.

So why... Why does it hurt so much?

''DAMN IT MAGGOT! Put a dispenser!'' Barked a wounded Soldier, oblivious to Engineer's condition. If there was no blood, there was no problem in his book.

''L-Loud an' cl-clear.''

Soldier gave a worried stare at his comrade. His voice was cracking badly.

Even in his condition, Engineer build up the dispenser fast enough to get back his ally to normal health. Meanwhile, Soldier could no longer keep the BLUs from their control point. The red light on the platform shifted at an alarming pace to blue.

''DRASTIC MEASURES ARE NEEDED!'' The war veteran positioned his rocket launcher underneath his feet for a last blast off.

BLU's kept their eyes on him and tried to shoot him down, but the gain of altitude was too much to kept up with. At the peak, he switched the rocket launcher for his loyal shovel to deliver a smashing blow to those blue maggots.

As he fell toward them, bullets and rockets whispering at his ears, he let out a glorious battle cry. It would be a great sacrifice, but with all the screams and battle roars, he alerted his team to their aid. His dive did help, as a distraction.

RED's Heavy and Medic finished off their counterpart in a swift assault of bullets. Sniper pulled off that move he heard from Scout, a quick-scope in the blue Soldier's helmet and head.

Soldier met the ground at great velocity, a normal man would die, but not with a medic-gun fully charged with Ubercharge. Medic got at the right spot to transformed the soldier into an immortal man for a few short seconds. He crashed on the occupied point, stumbled a bit, before he stopped to which a 'ding' sound resonated.

''You alright, Herr Soldier?'' Questioned the professional on the medical field. The veteran said his arm and gave a thumbs up. ''Nice timing, Fritz.''

''Victory.'' The emotionless Administrator declared to the field's speakers.

The small group cheered at their victory after a losing streak. Money will flow back in their bank account very soon and also a party tonight, with a lot of drinking.

Medic quiet down first, seeing a missing cheer in the group. He knew Scout, Pyro and Spy were elsewhere, but one was missing like a sore thumb.

''Herr Soldier, vhere is Engineer?'' His question fell on deaf ears, the patriotic soldier was already walking away with Heavy and Sniper with the promise of vodka for the Russian.

From the corner of his glasses, he saw the missing piece coming out from hiding. '' Ah, Herr Engineer.'' He called out to the walking genius. He didn't stop, so he just walked to his side. ''I hope you didn't forget your check-up, nein?'' No replies, Medic didn't took the lack of words well. ''Scheiße, listen zo me vhen I speak!'' He grabbed the mechanic by the shoulder and spun him around.

He was expected the Texan to call him out to not touch him or to slap his hand away, he knew the man wasn't too fond of physical contacts. Nothing like this happened. Engineer's face showed a grin, not the sort you would be happy to see. Medic had seen enough patients to know what that smile meant; ''help me''.

Like a confused child, Engineer lifted up the destroyed hand to the doctor's eyes level. He immediately recognized the limb and why it was missing. When he first started to work as RED's Medic, he received all medical documents of his comrades, including himself. Engineer's dossier seemed normal at first glance. Vaccines were all shots and he was in top physical condition for a man of his age and constitutions. Further in, he found he spend a large amount of money with physiologists and other specialist of the mind. Suddenly, no more then a few weeks later, nothing added to his dossier. As if he never saw a medical expert for close of fifteen years. Since he joined RED, he never came to the regular check-ups. Not everyone was following them regularly, but they would come from time to time. Scout went more then Engineer and Scout was afraid of doctors.

''He-Hey Doc.'' A freakishly torn up voice came out of the Texan's lips. ''I-I think I ha-have a problem with mah hand.'' Medic didn't let go of the mechanic from his sight. It sounded as if he was delusional or completely disoriented. ''C-Can ya-ya fix it, Doc? I-I really... really need mah hand, Doc.''

''Yes, I vill fix your hand, Herr Engineer.'' Medic had a lot of experiences with deluded patients in the past, far worst cases. The problem was their temper. Engineer wasn't the type to be as short temper then Scout or Soldier, but he had to be very careful on his words. Agree to the patient, you don't want them to rip you apart.

''Th-Thanks Doc.'' He put the remains of his hand on the German's shoulder. ''You're a great guy.''


	3. 3 - Misunderstanding

Change

Chapter 3: Misunderstanding

 _''Mr. Conagher, welcome back.''_

 _He felt awful, even sitting in a chair he was having a bad episode of vertigo. Everything spun him, like he was riding an out of control carousel._

 _''Mr. Conagher, you have lost your hand.'' The words coming out from their mouth had the impact of a sledgehammer jammed to his skull._

 _''… No. I'll get it back.''_

 _The shade in the ivory coat looked at him with little interest._

 _''Mr. Conagher, tell us why you are denying the truth?''_

 _''I'm telling no lies!'' Sick of the words, he bolted up. The shadow didn't move. ''You're the stinking liars! All good for nothing greedy damn groundhogs!''_

 _''Mr. Conagher, your hand is...'' ''Shut it!'' He grabbed the collar and pulled the liar to his face. ''There's nothing wrong with me, ya bastards! I'll build it back! Exactly, what ya can't do! Get my hand back! You're just all jealous at my success!''_

 _He took a rasped breath, his body suddenly shaking by a nauseating feeling. He fell back into the chair, letting go of the black being._

 _As he tried to not get sick, the faceless creature only starred in an ominous silence._

 _''Mr. Conagher.'' Something pricked in his eyes, it was pain he didn't felt in years. ''You are in denial.''_

* * *

Medic envied the others' position or, preferably said, jobs. Very few had to practice their profession in-between missions. He does need a break once in awhile. Just to have an evening where he can relax and do something other then taking care of others.

But no! He had to take care of one of his teammates who fainted from hyperventilation. Somehow, he managed to carry him to his infirmary unnoticed with the man's arm over his shoulder. At least Engineer held on until half-way to their destination.

It has been half a hour and the mechanic was still unconscious. Good thing also, he had plenty of time to check him up for a general health update. He wasn't in any danger, everything was green. He just needed to weight him and his dossier will be up to date. He should wake up soon with a nasty headache and a equally nasty surprise.

The German was putting back a screwdriver back to the toolbox, when he heard a groan coming from behind him. Thank God he didn't take long to awake.

''...Doc?'' He called out as he sat up from one of the three waiting bed.

''Herr Engineer, you have voke up right on zime.'' He announced half glade and annoyed.

Engineer's facial expression were highly readable with the removal of both his safety goggles and yellow helmet. Confusion, fatigue and overall wariness marked his features as distinguishable then a clown's makeup.

''You fainted.'' Cleared out the Medic.

Now he remembered. His right hand was destroyed by Heavy's mini-gun, the blue counterpart of course. Then he...

His forehead gave him a painful strobe. He put both hands on his face to relieve from the sudden ache. As he tried to calm down, a part of his face felt untouched and yet not. He immediately understood and heart raced. He removed the exterior part of his arm and saw what went missing.

His right hand.

Every bits and pieces had been removed, the remains of the hand to the base of the prosthetic. Everything he worked on to make his limb had been unceremoniously removed and replaced by a bandage of beige wool. Bewildered, he used his other hand and press around the ungraceful stump. His terrors weren't the product of a nightmare, he did miss everything he added fifteen years ago.

The doctor moved to the nearby sink and began to sterilized his medical instruments, oblivious to his patient's distress. Unaware of his mistake, he had left the toolbox and the container where pieces of the once prosthetic hand were visible for Engineer to see.

''Doc?'' The German stopped in his motions, he had a sudden bad feeling.

''Ja?'' He needed to stay as calm has possible. Why was he so suddenly anxious? It's Engineer for crying out loud! The happy, smiling and always optimistic mechanic of RED! He wouldn't do anything which one of his teammates would get hurt, right?

''Where's mah hand?'' His voice had that despair in it, like a child who was robbed of his parents by Death.

''I had zo remove it.'' He heard movement from behind him, Engineer took a few wobbly steps and stopped.

''Had to, Doc?'' He asked in a very cold, almost robotic voice. A following of clapping metal noises gave Medic a sudden cold sweat. On God, he was taking something out of the toolbox.

''Ja. Zhe hand vas gone, Herr Engineer. Even if you zried to repair it, it vouldn't vork anymore.'' He had enough knowledge to see a broken bionic arm when he sees one and Engineer's was out of date and beyond repaired. The thing could have fell apart if there wasn't as much patch-ups and welding.

There was a moment of heart wrenching silence in the infirmary. Through the thick walls of cements, a faint laugh from Scout could be heard echoing in the hallway from the only exit. Medic felt a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead, he held his breath when he heard a footstep getting closer from behind him.

His mind was close to overdrive, he was in an imminent danger for his life. He stood unmovable like a statue, his eyes scanned through all of his cleaned medical equipment in front of him. If he was quick enough, he could grab a scalpel and stab the mad American in the neck. But what if he wasn't armed? He could kill someone out of the company's implementations. Not too forget, if he kills him it goes the same.

There was a chance two out of three he will die.

He needed a excuse, a good lie to explains why he did it. An excuse, he needs one now! Where is the running on sugar boy when you need him!?

''Zhere vas an infection under the prosthetic!'' He said out lourd to a surprise Engineer. ''I had zo remove it zo zhreat it!''

A cooing from Archimedes soften the atmosphere between the men. For the first time in a long time, Medic was afraid of one of his suspect ally. He was always on the edge of the line when it came to his sanity, even he was aware of it. To manage it, he liked to stay in control of everything in his work and practices. It made him feel safe. He had learn the hard way to keep his patient on a short leash or he wouldn't be able to live anymore.

Engineer just wanted to know why, but the doctor suddenly gave away his answer in an almost panicking voice. Of course he was angry, Medic must have remove his hand without taking a care in the world for the pieces. He saw the parts in the bucket and almost all of them couldn't be salvage. The German had put too much stress onto the delicate and old pieces when he removed them. He looked at the stump, for who knows how many times now, and a very quiet panic settle in.

''Doc, I need that hand.'' He tried to calm down, knowing now the doctor was only trying to save him. ''I can't fight without.''

As much Medic hated, the American had a point. He can fight with one hand, but without the other he wasn't as useful and effective on the field.

''Vell, build a new one.'' He replied without a care in the world.

Medic was right. He has to build a new one and on a shorter time limit. The previous metal hand was made in seven days, but now he was limited to four. He can do it, it's going to be just fine.

''I'll do.'' Engineer grabbed the heavy toolbox with both arms in a clumsy way. He really needs to get a new one. ''Can ya do something for me, doc?''

The mad scientist turned his attention to the exiting man.

''It depends.''

''… Can ya tell to the others to not bother me for awhile?'' He looked at the floor as he tried to sort his reasoning. ''Ya understand, right Doc?''

Again, a strange, awkward moment of nothing happening came back with a vengeance. Why did Engineer asked? He was _always_ alone in his spare time.

''Ja, ja.'' The doctor hastily answered back, he didn't want him to stay here a second longer. ''I'll zell zhem.''

Archimedes flew off from his perch and landed on Medic's shoulder.

''Thanks Doc.'' Finally, Engineer leaved with his tools.

The German breathed out in relief, at long last. He never was so out of his element since the real war and not this joke of a ''war''. At least he was out of danger and, hopefully, so was Engineer.


End file.
